


The Avenger MS

by CrazyKater



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-31 22:36:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3995638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyKater/pseuds/CrazyKater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Slash* Hutch thinks about the state of his relationship with Starsky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Avenger MS

Hutch sat on the bench in Monique's garden, and he hugged his partner's body close to his own.

His heart had been in his knees, when he saw Starsky laying lifeless on the garden floor. He quickly handcuffed Monique to the outside sprinkler nozzle, before rushing to assess his fallen friend.

His worry quickly turned to relief, when he found that Starsky was still very much alive. Drugged and out of it, but alive.

The black and whites arrived to take Monique into custody and her sister had accompanied her, leaving only Starsky and Hutch and a pair of uniformed officers at the crime scene.

"Detective?" One of the officers addressed Hutch. "Are you sure you don't want us to call an ambulance for your partner? He still seems pretty out of it."

"No," Starsky tried weakly, his head bobbing from side to side, in clumsy refusal, but this action only served to confirm what the officer had said.

Hutch tightened his grip on his flax partner and rubbed at his arm.

"No, that's okay." Hutch answered. "I'll transport him to the ER." He smiled as the officer nodded and turned to go.

"No... Sleep," Starsky wined quietly.

"Yes," Hutch said softly. "Starsk, you've been poisoned and you need to be monitored. I am not taking you home until a doctor says it's okay."

"Please?" Starsky slurred, pleading one last time.

"Nope."

Hutch moved to stand, paying close attention to keeping his catatonic partner upright.

"Come on, pal," he grunted as he tried pull Starsky to standing. However, that was turning into more of challenge than expected. Maybe he should have employed that officer to help him get Starsky to the car.

There was a time when Hutch would have been able to pick up his partner and carry him, but with his current back problems, he didn't dare. His physician had already warned him that back surgery was inevitable, and Hutch was trying to avoid it for as long as he could.

"Hutch." Starsky slurred. "Your back."

"It's okay, Pal," Hutch comforted. "Can you try to stand? Help me out a little?"

"Mmm."

Hutch had managed to negotiate Starsky to the awaiting Torino. It had taken a little time but they had done it. Hutch ended up carrying most of the weight, however Starsky had tried to help as much as he could. But the drug was in full force by then, rendering his motor skills all but useless and leaving him teetering on the edge of unconsciousness.

Sitting next to the hospital bed, Hutch watched his partner sleep. Starsky would be fine, only spending the night in the hospital so that his vitals could be monitored while he slept off the drugs.

Hutch had thought about going home to his own bed, but quickly abandoned the thought. There was no way he was going to leave Starsky in a hospital bed alone.

He fidgeted for a moment before resigning himself to discomfort of the hard chair. He knew he would pay for his vigilance tomorrow, in spasms and tight muscles. Perhaps he would be having that back surgery sooner rather than later after all.

Even so, the high cost of the back pain he would have to endure in the morning was worth every second at his best friend's bedside. He didn't want to take the chance that drugged out Starsky would wake up in the middle of the night and find himself unaccompanied.

Hutch had to be there, keep guard over his incapacitated partner, even if it was only to protect him from his own fears.

Too damn close.

It had been too close this time. Hutch was assaulted with the sudden worry and what ifs that always plagued him when sitting by his unconscious companion.

What if he had just gone home and went to bed like Starsky had suggested?

What if they hadn't figured out that Monique was the killer?

Oh, god. 

What if he had stuck to his original suspicion and arrested her sister?

Shit.

Shaking his head, Hutch stopped himself from continuing with his train of thought. None of it mattered. He had figured it out and arrived just in time.

Just in the nick of time. Again. 

He leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows heavily on his knees for a moment, before running his fingers through his long, blonde hair and then his short mustache.

It's okay. It's okay. It's okay.

He found himself rocking back and forth slightly, repeating the words that had recently become his silent mantra. The same words that he had been telling himself so often these days. Maybe if he heard them enough then maybe, just maybe he might believe them.

Only nothing was okay, and Hutch wondered if anything would be again.

Hutch thought of that day, in the Torino, when drunken Starsky had asked him why they couldn't just get back together. Hutch still didn't have a good answer, but that was fine, because once sober, Starsky didn't seem to need one anymore.

To Starsky, it was as though the conversation had never even happened, and Hutch desperately wished that were true. Because before the conversation he had been fine—well- maybe not fine, but he had been okay. He was moving on, sure of himself and his choice, but after that day everything had changed. Now he had doubts.

But if Starsky wasn't going to bring up the drunken conversation then neither was Hutch. He had made his bed and he had every intention of laying in it. Besides, Hutch didn't have enough courage to talk to him about it, especially since he wasn't sure such a discussion would be welcome.

Things were strange now.

They were drifting, each slowly learning that could live without the other. They could go days without talking to each other outside of work. Hutch remembered a time when they couldn't go a night without at least talking to each other on the phone.

Words were spoken in haste with the intent to wound. There was too much hurt too much pain between the two of them for them to be able to have a constructive friendship.

The nearness was gone. The co-dependence was gone. There was tension between them and Hutch didn't know how to make it go away. To him it felt as if the end was near, and it was only a matter of time before they were done completely.

Hutch rested his head in his hands and breathed deeply. How do you go on living when you can't live with or let go of someone?

"Hey," Hutch heard the quiet scratchy voice cut through his thoughts. He looked up to see Starsky peering him through bleary eyes.

"Hey yourself," Hutch replied. Smiling he reached out to run his hand through his partner's hair, but pulled away at the last second, remembering that physical contact like that was no longer allowed. Hutch offered Starsky a tired smile instead.

"You stayed," Starsky croaked out as he blinked drowsily.

"Of course I stayed. We're partners, remember?" Hutch scoffed, his voice deep with the overwhelming tiredness he felt.

Starsky met Hutch's eyes and considered him seriously, and Hutch looked away from him. Self-conscious from the piercing stare of his partner, Hutch rubbed his palms on his thighs.

"Are you sure about that?" Starsky asked finally and Hutch looked to him, mouth agape. He hadn't expected the direct question, assuming that since he didn't have the courage to bring up the state of their partnership then neither would Starsky.

"What?" Hutch asked. This was the moment he had been waiting for, he knew that, but he wasn't sure he had the strength or the courage to revisit the topic of their break-up, especially after such a long stressful day.

"I just wanna be in love," Starsky declared, and he turned his attention to the white ceiling tiles above the bed. When he continued, Hutch had to strain to hear him. "With you… Again."

It was Hutch's turn to stare intently at his partner. Tilting his head, he considered Starsky's words, and his glassy eyes, then snorted and smiled sadly. He didn't know whether he should laugh or cry as he deciphered that Starsky's declaration was, most likely, the result of the drugs he had been injected with.

"Starsky—"

"Don't," Starsky interrupted in a whisper. "I don't expect ya to say anything… I don't think I even want you to." He sighed heartily, still avoiding eye contact. "I just wanna know where we go from here."

Hutch pursed his lips. He wanted to scream at Starsky that he wanted the same, but something stopped him. Maybe it was the lingering sting of recent events, but he found himself saying something else entirely.

"I'm not good for you Starsky."

"Ugh, don't do 'dat," Starsky scoffed.

"Do what?" Hutch pressed even though he knew what his friend was referring to. Drugs in his system or not, Starsky hated it when Hutch got down on himself.

"I'm so fuckin' sick of you… deciding what's good for me. Don't I get a say in my own life?" Starsky shook his head drowsily. "Never mind… It doesn't matter anymore. None of this fuckin' matters anymore. What are we gonna do, Hutch?"

"I don't know," Hutch shook his head and rested it in his hands. Exhaustion and the knowledge that this conversation would not be remembered by his partner in the morning, making him feel defeated. "I am tired, Starsk. I don't know what to do."

"Well," Starsky stated and odd calm to his voice. "You should probably go then."

"Starsky—"

"Please," Starsky's firm voice interrupted. "Just go."

"Fine." Lifting his hands in loss, Hutch stood. "Call me tomorrow? I'll give you a ride when you're discharged."

Starsky nodded, and Hutch thought for a second that the other man was fighting tears, but a closer look proved him wrong.

Someday, Hutch promised himself had he left the hospital, he would find the courage to talk to Starsky about everything. He would tell him how he really felt, and then maybe, just maybe, things could be okay again.

END


End file.
